by Beth Merlin
The technician knocked on the door. “How’s everything going in there?”
“Great,” I shouted back.
After another ten minutes or so, my nether regions were starting to feel uncomfortably warm, and not in a good way—in the microwaved-broccoli way. I slowly maneuvered myself off the stool and got dressed. The wall clock read 2:25. Gwyneth Paltrow approved or not, twenty-five minutes was about as long as she could stand the heat. I waited a few more minutes so the technician would think I gave it the old college try and then tiptoed out of the room and back into the reception area to wait for Zosia.
“Joanna, so glad to see you up and about,” Louisa said, sashaying around the front desk, her colorful maxi dress skimming the floor beneath her.
I looked up from my magazine and flexed my ankle up and down. “It’s much better, thank you.”
“Did you enjoy your spa treatment?”
I raised my eyebrows. “It was an experience.”
Louisa looked at me quizzically before sitting down across from me. She crossed her ankles and leaned in toward the coffee table.
“Todd mentioned the two of you went oyster harvesting this morning.”
My head shot up. “He did?”
I don’t know why her question caught me so off guard, but I felt my cheeks warming. Our outing wasn’t a secret, exactly, but I also got the sense it wasn’t for public consumption. Todd worked at Retreat House, and, technically, I was a guest of the hotel. I had to imagine there was a policy against that sort of fraternization.
“That look on your face makes me think he hasn’t told you about us,” she said.
My stomach dropped out from under me. “About whom? About you and Todd?”
“We used to be in a relationship. Quite a serious one. But that was years ago.”
Louisa and Todd had dated? It felt like a vital piece of information for Todd to have left out of all our conversations, which made me wonder why he had chosen not to share it.
“Isn’t it hard for you to see him every day? Someone you were once in love with?” I asked.
“God, no. His LA restaurant was going under, so I threw him a lifeline and helped get him the job at Retreat House. You’ll see, by this time next week you’ll feel the same way about your ex. You’ll be able to look him straight in the eye and feel none of things you used to.”
There was something about the tone of her voice, like she was trying to convince me and herself just how over him she was.
“I hope so,” I said.
“That or your money back, right?” she said with a wink.
“Can I ask you something?”
She uncrossed her ankles. “Of course, you can.”
“Is Todd Aldrich the reason you started Retreat House?”
Before she could answer, Zosia came charging out of her treatment and into the reception area.
“Darling, I don’t know about you, but I feel like a new woman,” she announced to the room.
Louisa jumped to her feet. “You got the V-Steam, didn’t you?”
“It’s simply amazing what some hot water can do for a person. Joanna, what’d you think?”
“It was an experience,” I said, repeating the same answer I’d just given Louisa.
“I’m going to get some of those DIY kits,” she said, turning to me. “Jo, do you want a few to take home with you? My treat?”
“I’m, I’m good. Thank you, though.”
Louisa collected some papers from off the counter. “Ladies, I’m going to leave you to enjoy the juice bar and whirlpools. See you at dinner.”
Zosia finished paying for her DIY kits and asked me to join her for a smoothie. We headed down to the spa’s juice bar, and Zosia went to the counter to order each of us a green juice, while I grabbed us two seats with the best ocean view.
She set our drinks down on the table, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. “Just smell that sea air. This place has done wonders for me already. You know, this is the longest I’ve gone without thinking about Rich in, I don’t know, years probably.”
So far, Zosia had kept fairly tight-lipped about her impending divorce from mogul Richard Barry. I suppose when the whole world considers the breakdown of your marriage front-page news, the last thing you want to do is add any more fuel to the fire.
“How long were you guys married?” I asked.
“It would’ve been thirty years this November.”
“Wow. Do you miss him?”
She looked up from her cup. “You know, you’re the first person who’s ever asked me that. Everyone else is so consumed with the financial ramifications of our breakup they’ve forgotten there are two people at the center of this marriage, who at one time were very much in love. And we were very much in love, you know.”
I smiled. “I can believe it. How’d you two meet?”
“At Stanford, our freshman year. We were immediately inseparable. To my parents’ chagrin, we got married right after graduation. I supported him through his MBA and half a dozen failed business ventures. Then, twenty years ago, he comes to me with this idea for an online platform to sell consumer goods—his modern-day version of the Sears catalogue, and I could see that look in his eyes, he wanted this one to work, needed this one to work. So, I helped him build The Jungle from nothing. It went from the two of us filling orders out of our garage in Palo Alto to a multi-billion-dollar company. I don’t give two shits about any of that. I miss my lover. I miss my best friend. I miss my sparring partner. I miss the father to my children.”
Zosia had tears brimming in her eyes. “But,” she said, dabbing them away with a napkin, “I didn’t realize until I got here that there was someone else I was also missing—myself. I haven’t thought about my needs, my wants, my feelings in forever. For years, it was all about Rich and our children. Then, it was all about The Jungle and our public personas. When you throw our kind of money into the equation, forget about it, you completely lose sight of who you were and what used to matter to you. You become somebody else entirely. At least, that’s what I liked to tell myself about his affair. My Rich wouldn’t have strayed.”
I rested my head on my hands. “And you feel differently now?”
“Who he is, who he was, I suppose I see now that none of it matters. He made his choice, and that choice just happens to be barely twenty-five years old, with flawless skin and a perfect rack.”
I set my arms down on the table and tilted my head to the side. “You’re a beautiful woman, Zosia.”
She put her hands over mine. “Thank you, Joanna. You really are a sweetheart. Your mother must be so proud of you.”
I pulled my hands back and set them down into my lap. “My mother passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay, I don’t talk about it much—well, ever, to be honest.”
Zosia stood up from the table and smoothed some hair away from my face. “With one week of Boot Camp left, maybe it’s time you did.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next morning, I grabbed my notebook and the treasure map and was out on the beach just as the sun was coming up. I found a chaise lounge that had been left out from the day before and settled in to work on my letter assignment to Sam. I flipped open to a clean page and thought back to Dr. P’s instructions. He wanted me to write a letter to Sam that explored the good and bad parts of our relationship, where I was to take some responsibility for my part in its ultimate demise.
I set pen to paper, and before I knew it, I had filled several pages of the notebook with musings about Sam’s affair. Maybe I had played a role, but there was no way my mistakes even came close to touching his. After all, an affair was the ultimate betrayal of the heart wasn’t it?
I scribbled out a few more thoughts and set the notebook down—that was quite enough indignation for one day. I picked up the treasure map and looked out to the horizon. Tucking the notebook into the back of my shorts, I slipped on my aqua shoes and
set out for the lighthouse.
This time, I made it all the way across the jetty to the lighthouse and retrieved the second clue from up inside the bell tower. I unfurled the tightly rolled paper and read the scroll.
Teach me to steer the ocean swell, where untouched I glide, through a place I’ll never belong, but that beckons me always to ride.
The surf school! I hurried back up the beach and over to the shed. I pushed open the swinging door and squatted down to look for the next clue behind the surfboards lining the wall.
“Need any help?” said a familiar voice above my head.
I spun around on my knees and came face-to-face with Todd’s…knees. I looked up and into his handsome face. His hair was pulled back into his signature man bun, and his wet suit was glistening from a recent dip in the ocean. He stood his surfboard up against the wall.
“Joanna, what are you doing here?” he asked when I didn’t respond to his offer of help.
I stood up and brushed off my shorts. “I’m still in search of that buried treasure.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Any luck?”
I pulled the first clue out of my pocket. “I made it all the way out to the lighthouse this time.”
Todd looked down at my ankle. “Unscathed?”
“Unscathed,” I repeated, pointing at my aqua shoes.
“Smart.” He peered over my shoulder to read the clue. “Want any help trying to find the next one?”
After Louisa’s revelation, I’d decided I would take a step back from my budding friendship with Todd, or whatever it was that was developing between us. It’s not that he owed me an explanation, exactly, but he’d been so forthcoming about his restaurant going under and what brought him to Topsail, all the while conveniently leaving out the bit about his ex-girlfriend’s role in all of it. I couldn’t help but wonder what his angle was.
“I’m okay, thanks.”
“I don’t have to be anywhere for a while. Between the two of us, I’m sure we can find the treasure,” he said.
“I’m supposed to find it on my own, part of the Boot Camp experience.”
He smiled and put his finger over his lips. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“You won’t tell whom? Louisa?” The forcefulness of my tone surprised me, but after Sam, I had no intention of being blindsided by a man ever again.
He closed his eyes. “She told you.”
“She told me the two of you used to date. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me. I know you don’t technically owe me anything, and maybe I’m crazy, but it felt like there was something developing between us.”
“You aren’t crazy,” he said softly.
“So why wouldn’t you just be honest with me?”
“I didn’t want to scare you off. Lou’s built a whole career around helping women get over the men who broke their hearts. If I told you I was the ex-boyfriend of the founder of THE Breakup Boot Camp, I can only imagine what you would’ve thought of me. I wanted you to get to know me a bit better before all of that came to light.”
“So, you are the reason she started this place?”
“I don’t think I can take all the credit, but yes. I was a different guy back then, though. Lou and I met during the height of Ma Belle Ferme. I loved her, but I let the fame and money get to my head. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I treated everyone like they were disposable—friends, family, my girlfriend, it didn’t matter. I had a publicist in my ear, telling me I was going to be the next big thing, and I drank way too much of the Kool-Aid. Truth is, I ruined a lot of relationships—ours was just one of them.”
“But it can’t have been that bad if she helped you get the job here?”
“What better way to show that her camp works than to have the person who broke her heart here as proof positive that you can get over an ex?” he teased.
“Is that really true?”
“No, not at all. Lou’s a good person. She has a good heart, and I think she just took pity on me. I was a pretty lost soul when I arrived at Retreat House.”
I shifted my eyes to my feet. “Me too.”
Todd tipped up my chin. “But it’s over between me and Louisa and has been for a long time now.”
I wanted to believe him, but, how could I? I knew that I still had feelings for Sam, and I had to be honest with myself. Even with all the therapy in the world, I might always have feelings for him.
“I’ll always care about her, but that chapter’s finished,” he said. “We aren’t the same people we were then. I’m sure it’s the same thing for you and Sam. After all that went down between the two of you, you’d never really want to get back together with him, would you?”
I felt like I’d been sucker-punched. I knew the answer he wanted, the answer he was expecting, but I also knew in my heart it wouldn’t be an honest one. In the end, though, I didn’t have to say a thing, my deafening silence spoke volumes.
His pupils narrowed and seemed to flee from the expanding whites of his eyes. “Oh, I see.”
I reached out and touched his arm.
He stepped back and away from me. “No, no, it’s my mistake. I was starting to think there was the spark between us, but I guess I was wrong,” he said.
“You aren’t wrong, you’re just not exactly right either. My heart’s still an open wound. Sam wasn’t just my fiancé, he was my family. We were together for so long, it’s hard for me to imagine a world without him.”
“I should get going. I have to prep for tomorrow night’s clam bake.”
“Tonight’s the last performance of Romeo and Juliet. I was going to check in later to see if you still wanted to go with me?”
“Maybe some other time.” Todd zipped up his wet suit and reached around me for his surfboard. As he did, he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Oh, I am fortune’s fool.”
“Todd…”
“See you around, Joanna.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
After much pleading, I finally convinced Emmy to come with me to see Romeo and Juliet at the Canterbury Amphitheater. Understandably, she was worried about a run-in with the paparazzi we’d heard was camped out in Topsail, hoping to snag a photo of her. Zosia had the brilliant idea of having Emmy borrow one of Mistress Monica’s wigs to use as a disguise. We chose a short black pageboy style à la Catherine Zeta Jones in the movie Chicago. Not fully satisfied with Emmy’s makeunder, Zosia also lent her a baby pink and mint green Lilly Pulitzer caftan dress covered with baby palm trees. By the time we finished, Emmy J. looked like any other tourist spending the summer on Topsail Island and nothing like an international popstar.
At the suggestion of the hotel concierge, I picked us up a picnic dinner in town to enjoy during the show. There was no assigned seating in the Canterbury Theater, so we planned to get there early to get a good spot. Turned out, everyone else had the same idea, and by the time we got through the audience line, the only seats left were in the far back of the theater.
“It’s better if we sit out of the way, anyway,” Emmy said. “Less of a chance I’ll get spotted.”
“You really think somebody here will recognize you? With the wig and the outfit?”
“You’d be surprised.”
The usher directed us to two seats behind the lighting booth and passed us each a playbill before leaning in and saying, “I’m a huge fan of yours, Ms. J.”
Emmy threw up her hands. “So much for being incognito.”
“I’m sure he won’t say anything to anyone.”
She turned and pointed to the usher, who was furiously texting away on his cell phone.
“And I’m sure he’s alerted at least half his friends by now,” she sighed.
“What do you want to do? We can leave and head back to the hotel?”
“No, you stay. You wanted to see the play. Shakespeare’s not really my thing anyway.”
“Are you sure? Emmy, I really don’t mind leaving with you.”
“Did you know there are only t
wo ways on and off the island, a high-rise bridge in Surf City, and a high-rise bridge in North Topsail Beach? I feel a bit too much like a sitting duck. If I leave now, I can avoid the cameras I’m sure will be waiting for us at the end of the show. I’ll have the hotel shuttle come pick me up.”
“I honestly don’t know how you do it.”
“Up until my breakup with Matt, I really didn’t mind the attention. It’s all part of the job, right? But, I’m feeling a little more fragile these days and just not in the mood to have my life on display right now.”
“I understand.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “I know you do. I’ll see you back at the hotel. Enjoy the play.”
I settled back into my seat and opened the Playbill. I figured chances were high I’d recognize one name or another from the Gerber Agency. I flipped to the bios and read through the performers’ resumes, which were mostly comprised of local productions and credits, many of the actors having just come off the Topsail Little Theater’s spring production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel.
When I was a sophomore in high school I was cast as Julie Jordan, the lead in the musical Carousel, a role I’d coveted forever. I pleaded with my mother to come to just one show, but at the last minute, my father was able to get her into an experimental cancer treatment program in Stockholm, and they missed every performance. Sam, though, had flown home from college to see me in the role, sitting through the show at least five times before heading back to New York, and of course, I loved him all the more for it.
Though my father let me know my mother was heartbroken over disappointing me, I refused to speak to her for two solid weeks. Two weeks! Now, I’d give almost anything to have even just two minutes with her. The guilt and regret over the way I treated my mother and her illness was sometimes too much to bear. All it would take was the smallest of triggers for those emotions to come bubbling up again.
